


Second Life

by GiroGirl723



Category: Keroro Gunsou | Sgt. Frog, Phantom of the Opera (2004)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Musicals, Past Lives, Romance, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiroGirl723/pseuds/GiroGirl723
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Keroro Platoon has come up with a new invasion tool: Reincarnation! But what happens when Natsumi is affected? GiroNatsu, with hints of ChristineXErik... you'll understand what I mean. Mild swearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Transformations

“Alright, everybody!”

Four Keronians all turned their heads to a fifth standing at the front of the meeting room. All had extremely bored or exasperated looks on their faces save for one indigo tadpole.

“So, I was building Gunpla the other day…” the green Keronian at the front of the room began.

“Just get on with it, Keroro!” the red Keronian growled, arms folded over his chest.

“Fine, fine. Chill out, Giroro.” Pause. Then,

“Have any of you heard of the concept of reincarnation?”

“Does this have _anything_ to do with the invasion?” the indigo Keronian- whose name was Tamama- sighed, for once losing faith in Keroro.

“Yes, it does. Kururu!”

The yellow Keronian chuckled and heaved himself out of his seat to stand beside Keroro, who turned on the projector behind him.

“Keronian technology has only recently proved the theory of reincarnation to be true,” Kururu began. “A special gun has been made- which I helped with- where, given that it is aimed and shot at a person, said person will reassume the physicality- in both appearance and ability- of their past life. Though only available to high-ranking Keronian government officials at the present, it is scheduled to be released to platoons in the Keron army in a week.

“After hearing about this, our very own Taicho Keroro pre-ordered one of these guns. We are going to become our past lives!”

Keroro puffed out his chest in pride. “I can’t wait to see what I was in a past life.”

“Gunso-san was probably something noble and strong!” Tamama gushed.

Giroro let out an enormous snort. “I highly doubt that.”

“So where and when are we doing this?” Dororo- the final Keronian- asked.

“Wait. When did you get here?” Keroro asked.

As tears began to stream down Dororo’s face, Kururu answered, “as soon as the gun gets here. And we’re doing it by the underground pool- one of us may have previously been a fish.”

A week and a half later, the Keronians proceeded to wind their way through the secret base to the underground pool, Keroro proudly carrying the Second Life gun- as it had been christened- in his arms. When they arrived at the pool, however, they found Natsumi Hinata in a bathing suit, lounging on a pool chair.

“What the heck are you guys doing?” she said, annoyance lacing her tone.

“This,” Keroro began in an ‘I’m-so-much-more-amazing-and-important-than-you’ voice, “Is the Second Life gun. It reverses reincarnation.”

“So it returns you to your previous life?”

“Well, only the physicality of your past persona,” Kururu corrected.

“Shut up, creep,” Natsumi shot at him, and then returned her attention to Keroro. “Are you an idiot? Don’t answer that, we all know the truth. Anyway, you could totally turn into something ridiculous. I bet in your past life you were a squirrel or something.”

“Hey!”

Natsumi rolled her eyes. “Just saying.” Then she got up from the lounge chair, walked herself over to the edge of the pool, and executed a perfect swan dive into the water. As she popped back to the surface, she called, “Just don’t bother me.”

The Keronians looked at each other in surprise- well, save for Giroro, who was lingering on Natsumi’s beautiful dive. Each of the others was thinking along the same lines. Natsumi never simply ignored an invasion plan. She always tried to end it some way or another, which usually involved the platoon getting beaten into a pulp.

After a minute, Keroro shrugged and passed the gun to Kururu. “I’m first, since I’m the leader.”

“Whatever you say, Taicho,” Kururu muttered sarcastically, and then took aim. When he fired, a ball of yellow energy built at the mouth of the gun, and once it grew to the size of a baseball- which took about twenty seconds- the ball released and crashed into Keroro.

Smoke suddenly bubbled out of nothing, and when it cleared a fat gray squirrel sat where Keroro had been merely seconds ago. “What the heck?!” the squirrel yelled.

In the pool, Natsumi smugly said, “Called it.”

“Why am I a squirrel?” The past-life Keroro said.

“Beats me. You’re more lazy than a squirrel, so it baffles me too,” Kururu commented.

Keroro scurried over to the corner to sulk.

“Me next, me next!” Tamama shouted, then skidded in front of the gun.

This time it took a bit longer, and when the smoke cleared a dark green Keronian stood in Tamama’s place.

“If I remember your family pictures correctly, you just turned into your great-great-great grandfather,” Kururu stated.

Tamama seemed like he didn’t know what to make of this, but reluctantly took the gun, which Kururu was offering to him, and aimed at the yellow Keronian, then hesitated.

“Push the red button,” Kururu said, exasperated.

Tamama did so, and thirty seconds later Kururu was a much brighter, almost neon yellow Keronian with a computer mouse symbol on his forehead.

“No way,” a now mentally recovered- but still squirrel- Keroro gasped. “You’re Miroro, the creator of the basis of all Keronian technology to date!”

Kururu gave a smug grin before saying, “Next we have Giroro, and then we’re done.”

“What about me?!” Dororo sobbed.

Kururu took the gun again, aimed at Giroro, and fired. At the exact moment the ball of energy began to form, Natsumi dragged herself out of the pool, rubbing water out of her eyes. “Where’s the darn towel?” she muttered, crossing between Giroro and the Second Life gun just as the ball released.

“Natsumi! NO!” Giroro yelled, his eyes turning bright blue-green as he watched the ball of yellow light rush towards his love. Everything turned to slow motion, and yet he wasn’t able to reach her fast enough. The smoke surrounded her, and the thirty seconds he had to wait before it cleared was agonizing.

When the smoke did clear, everyone gasped.

The woman collapsed on the floor looked to be around sixteen or seventeen, the same age as Natsumi. A halo of curly brown hair surrounded her lovely face, and a light gray eyeshadow coated her closed eyelids. The rest of her body was accentuated by a bright blue dress and corset.

“Natsumi…?” Giroro said in hesitation.

“Well, this is getting interesting,” Kururu commented with a slight grin. “It seems as if Natsumi Hinata was once Miss Christine Daaé.”

“From the _Phantom_ of the _Opera_?” Tamama questioned in disbelief.

Kururu nodded, and then turned his attention to Giroro, who was rushing to kneel by Natsumi’s side. “I believe it is our dear corporal’s turn.”

Before Giroro was even able to comprehend what was happening, Kururu took aim with the Second Life gun and fired.

The smoke surrounded him, and it increased in intensity for the next minute and a half.

“Why is it taking so long?” Tamama asked impatiently.

“The more complex the genetic structure of the organism, the longer it takes to turn into your past life persona,” Kururu explained. “Turning into a person with your amount of genetic structure takes only a few seconds. Turning into someone or something with a less complicated genetic structure happens almost instantaneously. But if your past life persona has a more complex genetic structure, it takes at least a few minutes- as Giroro’s transformation is doing as we speak.”

“But what could Giroro-kun be turning into?” Dororo questioned. “What has a more complex genetic structure than a Keronian?”

For once he was not ignored. An almost evil grin came over Kururu’s face as he uttered the answer.

“A human.”

And at that moment, the smoke cleared to reveal a tall, dark-haired young man with his back to the Keronians, still knelt worriedly over the limp form of Natsumi.

“Giroro-senpai…?” Tamama questioned.

An angry face whirled around to meet them. “Will you shut up?!” the man yelled. “Why did you transform me when Natsumi’s like this?!” He then whirled back around and gently shook the now brunette girl.

And the others did ‘shut up’.

Because, for a brief second, they had glimpsed a white half-mask on their comrade’s face.


	2. Discovery

Giroro shook Natsumi gently again, urgency filling his mind too much for him to worry about what his past life had been- what he had become once again. His consciousness was too worried about the outcome of his beloved. Whether she knew of his feelings or not- and currently, she didn’t- he would be always there for her, to guard her and comfort her.

Natsumi’s eyes fluttered slightly, then opened halfway. Giroro breathed a sigh of relief, but then froze at the first word the girl uttered.

“Angel?”

Giroro’s heart took off. That couldn’t have been meant for him, couldn’t possibly belong to him. She thought he was someone else, someone from her previous life’s past-

And then a flood of images raced through his mind.

 _A young girl, crouched at a stand full of candles in a small stone chapel, lighting a candle under the name_ Daaé _…_  
 _The same girl, only slightly older, lacing on ballet_ pointe _shoes for the first time, a look of pride on her face…_  
 _The girl, now about sixteen- Giroro now realized it was the girl Natsumi transformed into- dressed all in white and singing a beautiful song at her debut, standing in for that insufferable Carlotta…_  
 _The feeling of the girl pressed up against him as he held her, singing of leaving the world she knew before and succumbing to his music…_

Wait.

It couldn’t be. Giroro knew what those scenes were from, there was no doubt about it… but he had never even _seen_ The Phantom of the Opera. So how could…?

“Angel?” Natsumi asked again, uncertainly.

Ignoring the feeling of immense warmth racing through him, Giroro steadied his voice. “No, Natsumi. It’s me. It’s Giroro.”

“My name’s Christine,” she murmured groggily, then her eyes closed again.

Casting a quick glance to the Keronians’ agape faces, Giroro said, “She’s trying to adjust. I need to get her to bed.” And with that he slid one arm under her back and the other under her knees, then stood up and carried her out of the secret base and to her bedroom, trying to ignore the extreme case of déjà vu he was experiencing.

When he had finally tucked her in, Giroro slumped down on Natsumi’s desk chair and stared down at the floor, trying to figure out what was going on. _Natsumi called me Angel_ , he mused.

And that was when he noticed that things looked a lot… smaller. Confused, he ran a hand up his face until it connected with… hair? Okay, so he was a human in a past life. He could handle that. But then Giroro lifted his right hand up to his face as well… and it collided with porcelain.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Giroro slid his hand to the side of his face and pried the offending object off. Lowering the object to his lap, he nearly gasped at the object in his now-gloved hands.

A white half-mask.

“No,” Giroro said aloud. “It couldn’t possibly…”

And here he pressed the mask back on his face and raced to Natsumi’s closet, flinging the door open to reveal the full-length mirror inside. And then nearly fainted.

A tall, dark-haired man stood before him. He was clothed in nineteenth-century clothes- a dress-suit and tailcoat with a cravat and cloak- but it was the man’s face that caught Giroro’s attention. It was dark and very handsome, but half of it was covered in a ghostly white mask- the very mask Giroro had held in his hands only seconds ago.

Giroro knew this man. He had seen him all the time on posters of Natsumi’s favorite movie-musical.

“Oh my God,” he murmured. “I’m the Phantom of the Opera.”


	3. Names

Natsumi had dreams of another life, another time.

The dreams were of scenes from the life of Christine Daaé, but not all of them were from the Phantom of the Opera movie. Natsumi was reliving things she had never seen before.

Who was she? Singer or sports star? Prima donna or protector of Earth? Shy and sweet or strong and temperamental?

Natsumi Hinata or Christine Daaé?

“Natsumi,” she heard a strong, familiar voice call. “Natsumi!”

And then she returned to the waking world.

Natsumi’s eyes opened to see the Phantom of the Opera standing over her with a concerned look on his face.

“Aaah!” she screamed, backing up against the headboard of her bed. “Get away from me!”

“Natsumi, calm down,” he replied. “It’s me. It’s Giroro.”

Shock. That was the first thing Natsumi felt. For a few seconds, she could do nothing but stare at him with her mouth open.

“You… were the Phantom… in a past life?” Natsumi finally said with uncertainty.

He groaned. “Apparently.”

Natsumi had never heard the Phantom groan in all the years she had studied under him. Of course it was Gir-

Wait.

She had studied under the Phantom?

Her mind drifted back to the strange dreams, and suddenly things started to make sense.

“No,” she murmured. “No.”

“Maybe you should look in a mirror,” Phantom/Giroro suggested gently.

Shakily, Natsumi pulled herself out of bed, but then stumbled. Giroro caught her and helped her over to the full-length mirror in her closet. She regained her footing when they reached it, but almost lost it again when she saw the figures staring back at her.

Of course Natsumi would see the Phantom. Giroro was him now.

But she was also Christine Daaé.

Natsumi looked over at Giroro in shock, and when she saw the concerned look in his eyes, something _stirred_ inside of her. Natsumi couldn’t identify it- she had felt it before, but she couldn’t put a finger on it, so perhaps she had only felt it in her past life- but it was there.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I-I’m fine. But m-maybe we should pummel Kururu. This is probably some sort of practical joke. The chances of us-”

“No.”

“What?” Natsumi never had seen Giroro pass up a chance to pummel Kururu.

“It’s not a practical joke. Even Kururu can’t make my face look like this just for the heck of it, down to the last detail.” And with that he removed his mask.

Natsumi couldn’t help but stare. Giroro’s face- the left side of his face- was red and scarred. Every bump and contour was exactly as she remembered. Quickly, Natsumi pulled out her iPhone, went to Safari, and searched up the Point of No Return scene from Phantom of the Opera. Too impatient to wait through the video, she slid the white button at the top of the video to when Christine removes the Phantom’s mask. Natsumi paused it when the Phantom’s face was revealed, then held the iPhone up to Giroro’s face to compare.

It was a perfect copy.

Natsumi just stood there, completely silent. (Thank God that she didn’t drop the iPhone.) Eventually, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

“What was your old name?”

Giroro paused and closed his eyes. After two agonizing minutes, he whispered,

“Erik Destler.”

That confirmed everything. Even if Kururu had given Giroro false memories, the curry-loving psycho-genius probably hadn’t read the original Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux. Only someone who had read that would know that the Phantom’s name was Erik. And they never mentioned the Phantom’s last name. Suddenly, all those thoughts melted away as, instinctively, Natsumi reached up to touch Giroro’s scarred face.

“Erik Destler,” she murmured. “I like that.”

He blushed intensely but placed his hand on top of hers with a sigh, and she remembered them doing much the same thing in another place, another lifetime. They stood there like that for a second, until he pulled away, his breath quickening. “I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “I know we’re on different terms now-”

“It’s fine.”

And it was. It was more than fine.

“Maybe… maybe I should go figure out a new place to stay, given that I won’t fit in my tent.”

Natsumi nodded. “Okay.”


	4. Temper, Temper

As soon as Giroro was out of Natsumi’s room- and earshot- he let out a cry of frustration. _What am I going to do?_ he wondered. _Natsumi has less of a chance of loving me than ever. I’m… I’m a…_  
He couldn’t even say it. It was one thing to kill if you were in the army. It was quite another to kill in cold blood. And then an even more disturbing thought came into his mind, one of a night long ago, when Natsumi- then Christine- tried to remove his mask for the first time. He had yelled mercilessly at her, and the memory came flooding back into his mind.

_He leaned into her touch, savoring the sensation. But the feeling of absolute serenity didn’t last, for her hands pried the one thing that shielded his face from the world off._   
_“DAMN you!” he shouted, flinging her to the ground. “You little lying Delilah! You little demon… is this what you wanted to see?!” He strode over to the mirror, cast a quick glance at his face, and then whirled around to scream at her again. “CURSE you! You little prying Pandora! You little viper! Now you cannot ever be free!”_   
_Natsumi/Christine lay on the ground, cowering in his fury._

With that image in his mind, Giroro sank to the ground, mentally beating and cursing himself for the pain he had caused her, whether it was in a previous life or not.

Finally, he pulled himself back up and, running a hand through his hair, he proceeded to work his way down, into the secret base, and to Kururu’s lab.

“Ah, so there’s our favorite Phantom!”

“Shut up,” Giroro said, then realized Kururu was back to his normal self. “You turned back.”

“We all did.”

“Well then, what about me and Natsumi?!”

He considered this, then laughed. “I think I’m going to see how this plays out first.”

“You little-” Giroro started but then took a deep breath. Once Kururu had made up his mind, you could torture him to unconsciousness, but he wouldn’t give you the answer you wanted- he had learned that the hard way.

“Fine,” Giroro muttered. “But I need a favor.”

His eyes arched. “Oh?”

“Can you make a machine that can transport a place from a movie to reality?”

“Of course I can,” he replied smugly. “What for?”

“None of your business.”

“It’s going to cost you.”

Giroro groaned inwardly. He always owed this guy something… but then as he shoved his hands in his pockets he felt, not yen coins, but something else.

_“Monsieur Lefévre used to pay him twenty-thousand francs a month.”_

Giroro gave a small smirk of his own, then said, “Kururu? Do you know how much francs are worth today?”

“From what date?”

“1860 through 1868.”

He sucked in his breath. “Look, this is gonna get complicated. Francs usually are worth next to nothing, now that they aren’t in circulation anymore. But with a mid-1800’s date… well I might be able to offer you a deal, despite my better judgment.”

Giroro rolled his eyes and pulled out the wad of cash that was even bigger than he expected. “How much?”

Kururu’s eyes widened, then he smirked. “Ten thousand francs.”

Giroro sighed and passed him the money. “How long will it take?”

“How long until you need it?”

“Tonight.”

“That’ll cost you extra.”

Giroro sighed again and gave him another hundred francs.


	5. Underground Lair

Natsumi couldn’t sleep.

All sorts of memories were flooding back to her… memories from her past life… memories of herself, and of her Angel of Music…

Who was now Giroro.

Natsumi felt warmth flood into her cheeks. She knew that in a past life, she had chosen him over Raoul- the Phantom just took it the wrong way. But then… But then…

She didn’t remember what was filling the pit of her stomach with dread. She just knew something terrible had happened, something that was both beyond and completely in her control.

Natsumi had pretended she hadn’t heard Giroro’s cry of frustration, yet it had shaken her to her very core. She knew- she just _knew_ \- he was berating himself for the murders he had committed in his past life. And she knew he would have changed what he did if he could. He had done it because… because…

Because he had been madly in love with her.

But no. It couldn’t be. He was Giroro now, not Erik or the Phantom. He couldn’t possibly love her.

_Although it would be nice if he could…_

_Whoa,_ she thought. _Where did that come from?!_ Then, tentatively, she reassured herself, _it’s just because I fancied him in my past life._

Natsumi glanced at the clock. 1:15 A.M. She sighed, resigning to the fact she wasn’t going to go to sleep anytime soon, and then dragged herself out of bed. She shivered- resolving to get a wrapper, no matter how old-fashioned it was- and then headed downstairs for a glass of warm milk.

When she walked into the kitchen, she saw a tall figure sitting at the table. Natsumi caught her breath and flicked the light switch, then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Giroro’s masked face.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asked.

Natsumi shook her head. “Not a chance. Too much happened today.”

“That’s an understatement.”

She sighed. “Damn Kururu. Did he find a way to change us back?”

“He knew how to from the beginning, but he said he”- and here Giroro made quotation marks with his fingers- “‘wanted to see how this played out first’.”

“Ugh,” Natsumi groaned, promising herself to give the freak a piece of her mind later.

“Well,” Giroro finally said after an awkward silence. “As long as we’re awake and stuck like this, there’s something I wanted to show you.”

Curious, Natsumi rose, but Giroro chuckled. “First, put this on. I want the experience to be as much like the movie as possible.”

Natsumi looked down at the white dressing-gown in her hands. “No way,” she realized. “You didn’t possibly make-”

“Well, technically, Kururu made it,” Giroro responded with a smile. “Now get dressed.”

“Well, now I don’t have to go out and buy a wrapper,” she laughed.

He grinned as well.

When Natsumi had gotten dressed in her (more old-fashioned) “pajamas”, she went back downstairs to find Giroro waiting in the outfit he had been wearing when he first turned human- that is, the old-fashioned suit that she now recognized to be the outfit the Phantom wears in Music of the Night. “You ready for me to show you my ‘lair’?” he said, chuckling.

Natsumi’s smile broadened. “Will you sing for me down there?”

His smile widened as well. “But of course.”

He offered his hand, and Natsumi took it, trying to ignore the small shiver the gesture gave her. _Will I ever be able to act the same around him, now that I know who we’re reincarnations of?_ she wondered.

Giroro began to lead her down to the secret base, and then winded through the hallways until he got to a random section next to the command center. Letting go of Natsumi’s hand, Giroro leaned on a spot in the wall where two different plates joined and pushed his weight on the section until one of the plates slid behind the other, revealing a much older looking stone passageway behind.

“No way,” Natsumi gasped.

“Yes way,” Giroro replied almost smugly. Then he took Natsumi’s hand again and led her through the hallway. When they reached the end, he silently continued to a downward spiral staircase, taking a wooden torch off the wall to provide lighting. The stairs led to another hallway, wider this time, which in turn led to an underground river with a boat waiting for them. By now Natsumi was beaming. Giroro could have chosen just about any place to live now that he was human- Kururu was a genius, albeit a very creepy one- and Natsumi wasn’t surprised he had chosen his past life’s dwelling, but the fact that he chose to show her this, now, after things had changed so much, made Natsumi’s day. Giroro helped Natsumi into the boat and began to steer it with a long staff down the river until they eventually reached a small portcullis leading into a cave filled with candles.

“So you decided on your old home,” Natsumi mused.

Giroro nodded. “Do you like it?”

“It’s as amazing as I remembered.”

He smiled, then took a deep breath. “You’re sure you want me to sing? I haven’t done it since I became Keronian.”

“I highly doubt your voice got any worse for the wear.”

“True.”

And then he helped Natsumi back out of the boat and began to sing.


	6. Music of the Night

_“Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation_

_Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination_

_Silently the senses abandon their defenses…_

Giroro almost had to catch his breath. His voice was just as good as it used to be- if not better. He let his clear baritone float out of him, letting the music come naturally. He was vaguely aware of the soft sigh Natsumi emitted, urging him to continue singing.

He floated through the song with ease, letting each note resound and, seemingly, penetrate Natsumi’s soul. He eventually found the courage to pull her close to him, continuing to sing as he held her in his arms.

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you_

_Hear it, feel it secretly possess you_

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot find…_

_The darkness of the music of the night…_

_Let your mind start to journey to a strange new world_

_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before…_

_How ironic,_ Giroro thought at that line. Technically, that was what had happened with both him and Natsumi- they had forgotten who they used to be. Finally, he reached the end of the song. He slowly spun Natsumi around until they were looking into each other’s eyes.

_You alone can make my song take flight… help me make the music of the night._

Giroro then pulled back slightly, taking a deep breath and searching Natsumi’s expression anxiously. Natsumi let out a long, shuddering breath. Then, carefully, she asked,

“Giroro? Do you still… do you still love me? Even in this life.”

Giroro exhaled. He wasn’t going to back down. Not this time.

“Yes.”


	7. Giroro Erik

Natsumi stared. _It can’t be. It’s not possible. Giroro and I are enemies now. Who we used to be- that changes so much of who we are now-_

And yet, at the same time, it changed nothing.

Giroro cautiously pulled Natsumi back into his arms, with her face pressed against his chest. Natsumi’s heart took off. _No, no, it can’t be. I can’t possibly… but I am…_

_I’m falling for him all over again._

Natsumi took a deep breath and looked up at the man she had known so well- her Angel of Music, and now, her Red Guardian. And softly, ever so softly, she whispered both of his names. “Giroro… Erik.”

“Natsumi… Christine,” Giroro replied gently.

And then he leaned down and ever so softly pressed his lips to hers.

Natsumi was in heaven.

This was even better than the kiss they had shared down in his lair, in their past life- the kiss that Natsumi, then Christine, had been trying to use to convey she loved the Phantom and not Raoul, but had come across wrong. It was better because Raoul (or anyone, for that matter) wasn’t there. Better because they had gone through so much more. Better because they were both doing it of their own free will- no fear or threats involved. And in contrast to that other kiss, so wildly passionate, this one was sweet. Tender. Giroro was clearly trying to be gentle and unalarming.

Natsumi loved him for that.

When they finally pulled apart, Natsumi uttered a sigh of contentment. She pulled in close and snuggled against Giroro’s chest. Finally, she worked up the courage to say it.

“I love you, Giroro Erik.”

“And I you.” Then he paused. “Huh. Giroro Erik. I like that.”

Natsumi smiled in return. “Then that’s what I’ll call you from now on.”

“And to me you’ll be Natsumi Christine,” Giroro replied with a hint of a grin.

They embraced, and after a moment Giroro murmured, “You ought to get some sleep.”

“Well, it’s an awfully long way upstairs-“

With that, Giroro swept Natsumi off her feet and carried her to the elegant swan bed that crowned his sleeping chamber.


End file.
